


The Creation of Blackhat

by Crystal_fishbowl



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Blackhat is Flug's first try at creating life, M/M, My Own AU, Paperhat - Freeform, he just needs a boss man, paperhat if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 17:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11406726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystal_fishbowl/pseuds/Crystal_fishbowl
Summary: Flug is immortal and he has always lived under the hand of someone else. He needs someone to control him and tell him what to do because without someone to guide him, he falls into depression. So, he creates Blackhat.





	The Creation of Blackhat

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!! This fanfic was my own idea, and I've never really seen a "Dr. Flug creates Blackhat" concept before, but if someone else has come up with the concept before me, that's okay! this fanfic is sorta a oneshot i wrote just for fun. I did my best to make it good (and readable) but i'm not the best writer. Anyways, enjoy!!
> 
> trigger warning for blood and drinking

He was going mad. He was going insane. His brain was constantly spinning and no amount of sleep or self care would fix this… craving. Flug wasn’t meant to be the boss of his own life. He was immortal, see. And from the time the he was created, all the way up until present day, he’d lived under the hand of a “master”, or “boss” of sorts. He’d loved his last boss. A woman who drove her life forward with vigor and strength. Flug happily lived under her crushing gaze for much of her life. She took good care of him and used his genius mind to it’s fullest extent. She challenged him correctly, and she would have continued to do so if pancreatic cancer had not taken her. By the time that she’d broken the news to Flug, it was too late to reverse the process with an invention. She whispered sweet words to him on her deathbed and told him to do what was right and create brilliant inventions. Then, like water running down a creek, she slipped away from life in the blink of an eye and her crushing gaze was gone. Flug was alone. Flug was free. Flug was… Miserable.

His mind was a warzone and he couldn’t stop the endless drive of thoughts that took away the ability to sleep and think clearly. He stayed inside for weeks. Flug did not eat nor sleep for quite a time until one day he got up from his chair, only to crumple on the floor for a number of hours until consciousness hit him like a brick. He forced himself up and into the kitchen to eat the remaining food from the fridge. His boss loved to drink fine champagne on rainy nights, and occasionally enjoyed a glass of fine wine, so after eating a portion of leftovers, he snagged the wine and brought it back his small lab. 

In darkness he sat, drinking quickly. At first he enjoyed the way the world softened and how his head felt like it had been stuffed with sugary sweet cotton candy. His limbs were loose and his usually tense shoulders sagged down. Through the halls of the empty house, Flug hummed a little tune that sometimes his boss would sing when she got a little too tipsy. He felt happy for a time, until he vomited up most of what he’d eaten, along with the wine, and then staggered to bed and slept.

In dreams he was still in darkness. But this was a different kind of darkness. It almost seemed… alive. He felt the way it seemed to breathe and how it twisted his body in circles. Flug looked down at his body and marveled the way it floated through this “living” darkness. He spied his shoe, and noticed how one dirty lace had become untied. So, as he fell through the void, he stooped down to tie it. Then, as he straightened his back and looked up, a single eye gazed at him. 

Flug jolted awake. Though the room shifted and swayed and his head began to ache, he stumbled out of bed and to his lab table. There would never be another Boss to discover Flug’s genius. Flug knew that now. It was only by luck that his last boss had been riding next to him on a plane ride that crashed. He’d saved her life and she took him in under the promise that he would invent incredible things for her. He would now have to create a new boss. Someone just as fantastic as his last boss. Someone who knew how to use Flug and could put his inventions to use. 

For hours he planned and wrote, writing down materials, equations, and formulas. Flug was about to play God. Finally at last, the days of planning ended, he immediately began his work. Test tubes clattered and liquids poured from one container to another. Tangles of wires became life support systems, and soon he’d created a chamber capable of supporting life.

Next came the grizzly part. Flug needed a stem cell, but he could not access his own without cutting his body open and possibly killing himself. So up to the yard he went. Using a shovel and hammer, he unearthed his previous employer, where he’d buried her only weeks before. Using the hammer and a screw driver (that he had to run and get after he’d dug the coffin out) he carefully opened her coffin. There she lay, in all her glory. He carefully cut open her arm and delicately removed the marrow from her elbow. Then, with equal grace, he shut the coffin, lowered it back into the hole, and reburied her. He found no purpose in wasting time and sewing her up because she was just a corpse. Incapable of bleeding out or healing.

With the sample safe within a glass test tube, he clambered back down his lab and resigned back to darkness. Daylight was disgusting, no matter how gloomy the sky was while he was out. Once he arrived in the lab, he began to mull over the possibilities. He could plant the sample within the chamber now and have it grow into something much like his previous boss, or he could make something much more… powerful. It would still possibly have some of her traits, but why waste resources only to reincarnate someone?

Grabbing his microscope, he began something that had never been done before. He used samples from other animals to make his work. He wanted something that could disguise itself in times of trouble, but could also defend itself using any means. So, he grabbed DNA from a cephalopod octopus, which could change it’s skin color to hide from predators. He then grabbed DNA from a cat, because he’d always thought it magnificent to see how graceful, small, yet powerful they were. Flug looked around, and remembered his dream. This… “living” darkness that he felt was something he felt that he had to incorporate into his new Boss. Creatures great and small would fear what he was creating, and Flug wanted to have everyone know that the new boss was powerful. In a small, clear vase sat the exact thing that he was looking for. 

 

Long before his recently deceased boss, Flug had built and launched a probe into deep space to discover new planets and bring samples. The probe returned damaged and smoking many years later, but nonetheless it returned with a sample of deadly, black bacteria inside. Flug had noted that anything inserted into the “organism” (though it was a puddle of bacteria, it seemed to act as one and behave as a singular organism) would almost be absorbed. Not destroyed, as traces of the matter inserted could still be found within the cells. Acting quickly, Flug opened the container, stuck a pipet into the goo, and put a drop of the bacteria into his spliced stem sample. The whole thing turned black and almost seemed to twitch as everything react to what was happening. 

This was it. He would have a new boss. Someone to order him around and someone to drive him forward. This was his purpose. He took the slide of DNA, climbed the wobbly ladder up to the top of his life support chamber and dropped it into the large, handmade chamber. Then, he raced down the ladder once more, and nearly tripped on his own two feet as he scrambled to the control panel in front of the glass. With careful and practiced fingers he switched on the many machines that would aid his creation. Now, he would only have to wait, watch, and monitor.

The first few days, nothing happened. Bubbles lazily drifted through the thick solvent that provided nutrients to Flug’s experiment. Machines hummed and whirred as Flug waited. His patience was limitless but that did not help peak his anxiety. What if he failed? What if the bacteria had killed his sample instead of enhancing it? After a week, he began to see results. From within the greenish fluid, he saw a small, penny sized lump. It twitched and pulsed softly.

“Like a heart” Flug said aloud. It’d been so loud since he’d spoken. His voice was scratchy and sore. Flug only smiled. He would have a boss to speak to soon. His life would be worthwhile again soon. “Soon.” He whispered. 

The lump turned into a heart. And from the heart sprouted veins, arteries, and eventually, bones. The skin was the last to form. Flug noticed, after waking up late one morning, that he would not be having a female to drive him forward, but instead a male. But no matter the gender, he was going to have a boss. He kept telling himself that, again and again. That one little statement drove him forward to keep waiting, watching. When skin formed, it was black. At first Flug was scared. Something had gone wrong. His experiment had failed and the subject would not survive. But after collecting a small sample, his panic ceased immediately. Due to the splicing and the bacteria additive, that was just the pigment of the subject’s skin. Nothing to worry about.

9 Week was all it took. After 9 weeks, Flug had successfully grown a living organism. With organs, blood, muscles, a brain, and a heart, Flug had done something never done before. He looked at his results, floating in liquid before him. 

“Marvelous” Flug murmured under his breath. Then he gasped. Right as he had muttered, the subject had moved its fingers. It was only a little jolt, but something inside of Flug lit up. He knew it was time. The subject was ready to be removed from the solvent, and into the air. It had finished growing and was ready to face the real world. 

Carefully shutting off the machines that kept the fluid at a reasonable temperature and monitored the state of the subject, Flug then climbed the ladder up to the top of the chamber, clicked a few buttons on the lid of it, and watched as the lid slid to the side, exposing the green fluid to air. Reaching into his lab coat, Flug pulled out another remote control and began to operate the machine responsible for pulling his experiment out of the goo. Sweat dripped down his face, and excitement burst in his heart. 

“Finally” He thought out loud. He lowered the machine into the goo, and watched as it sensed the organic matter it was supposed to pick up, and wrapped itself around the subject’s torso. Everything was going perfect. With one flick of his thumb. Flug ordered the machine up. He clambered down the ladder and watched as his beautiful experiment rose out of the glass. Limbs limp and heavy, tired, closed eyes faced Flug as the machine flew down to Flug. Before he ordered the machine to release, Flug did his best to rid the experiment of the goo. Then, bringing his own lab chair forward, he draped a towel over the soft leather and controlled the machine to delicately release the subject into the chair. As it did, Flug watched as the experiment’s chest rose and fell, breathing softly. Then, carefully, Flug placed a little bracelet around it’s wrist to measure it’s softly beating heart.

“He’s so peaceful” Flug remarked. But then the subject jolted. Violently. It’s eyes shot open and it’s breathing became intensive and labored. A pang of fear danced down Flug’s spine. The subject’s eyes shot across the room, quickly scanning the surroundings, before landing on Flug’s eyes. Both pupils repeatedly dilated and contracted as the subject’s breathing only got more intensive. The heart monitor Flug had left on across the room went crazy. That’s when the screaming started. Black, clawed hands shook violently as Flug’s once peaceful experiment began to panic and go into overdrive. The machine across the room indicated that the experiment would go into cardiac arrest if this were to go on. Flug was almost in shock. How did this happen? The experiment had only just woken up.

Racing across the room, Flug grabbed a tray consisting of a surgical knife, surgical scissors, and a syringe of morphine, and ran back to the subject, who was starting to convulse. He was about to use the syringe when the subject doubled over, and out from it’s mouth came the same green fluid from inside the tank it had grown up in. Then, after it had finished throwing up the nutrient fluid, a deep black substance followed the lighter, translucently green life support fluid. Blood. The subject was vomiting blood.

It only lasted for a short time, but after it had finished throwing up, it threw it’s back up against the chair, looked Flug in the eye, and brought it’s still violently shaking hands to it’s face.

“I need to sedate you so you calm down and sleep for a while, okay?” Flug said, looking into his experiment’s widening pupils. He brought the syringe up to eye level, and returned his gaze to the subject’s eyes. The Subject’s breathing became evermore labored and from across the room Flug heard the heart monitor spastically beeping. He watched as the experiment feel it’s own face and find it’s eyes. Then, time slowed. As soon as razor sharp claws found it’s left eye, it plunged inside. Time stopped around Flug. Blood splattered everywhere as screams radiated around the walls of the lab. It was unlike anything Flug had ever seen in his time amongst the living. He’d seen endless wars fought all around the world. Seen old masters and bosses go insane and off the deep end. But never in Flug’s time did he see something so utterly raw, powerful, and insane as this. There was so much noise echoing around the lab between the screams, Flug’s shouts, the machine’s whirring, and the heart monitor beeping, but to Flug, everything was silent. The only sounds he heard were his own heartbeat and his very own breathing. 

But then, just like that, time jump started itself again. Then the screams cut out. The heart monitor slowed just a little. The experiment’s remaining eye rolled up into it’s head and it fell forward onto Flug’s chest. Black blood oozed onto Flug’s coat, while the vomit on the floor began to reek. Flug stood, breathing quietly. He absorbed the sights and sounds and smells around him. Green fluid on the floor, mingling with black blood. A heart monitor, beating in perfect time with the subject’s heart, which was still quicker than it should have been. Finally he looked down. Staining his pristine, white lab coat was the clashing color black. A warm body pressed into his, completely slack. Unconscious. And in need of care. Desperately. 

Flug lifted syringe up, and with shaking hands he pushed the subject back into the chair, and pushed the needle into it’s neck. Within minutes, Flug’s experiment’s breathing slowed. His heart rate lowered and the tension within his body vanished.

“The miracle of sedatives” Flug said, almost chuckling. After what he’d seen, he was traumatized. His mind was entirely out of sorts, and Flug was almost in shock. He gazed at his experiment, sitting there, just as he had been just 10 minutes ago before he’d woken up and poked his eye out. 

______________________________________________________________________________

It’d taken a long time to clean up the lab. Between the vomit, blood, and draining the chamber, Flug had a lot to do. He’d laid the experiment on his bed, because there was no other place that Flug could put him that would be comfortable and easy on it’s muscles. To keep the subject (which, while Flug was cleaning, he’d decided to call “Black”) from waking up and hurting itself again Flug had set up a morphine drip by the bed, and had also strapped Black’s arms and legs down for when he did decide to wake Black up. Then, he did his best to clean up the mess that was Black’s left eye. With nothing more to do but watch and monitor Black, Flug sat in his chair and watched Black sleep. Every few minutes, Black would jostle and and groan slightly.

“He must be dreaming” Flug thought to himself. He continued to watch Black for a long while, until exhaustion overtook him and he slept.

The morphine drip ran out a couple hours later, and within 30 minutes, Black was awake and panicking again. He jerked against the restraints and his heart rate rocketed once again. Flug jumped at the sudden noises, and his eyes immediately found a startled Black tugging hard against the leather straps that Flug had secured to his bedpost.

“No no no…” Flug muttered, standing quickly and stepping towards Black, who turned his head to meet Flug’s sleep filled eyes. Black stopped struggling for a second, let out a small huff of air, and then suddenly, the air became cold. The light and emotion drained from the room. Sound, light, and even the air itself seemed to drain away and Black’s eye’s widened. Then, with an explosion of inhuman tentacles, claws, and hellish screams, Black ripped the leather that bound him, and fled from the room before Flug even had time to blink. With him, the cold, dark silence followed him and he raced out of the room on his hands and feet. 

Flug sat down again after a second, rubbed his eyes, and lifted his tired body once more from the chair. “He’s lost in the fuckin’ manor” he said, frustration and fear leaking into his voice. Flug sauntered slowly to the little table which still held the scissors and scalpel. He picked up the scalpel, and set off down the halls, which were only becoming dustier by the day. He followed the atmosphere of the dark halls, and noticed that, as soon as he made a turn, the air seemed considerably colder and more ominous with each step. At the end of the hall, he found his old Boss’s bedroom. He knew the door by heart, but he’d never gone in out of respect for her privacy. Now he would have to go in to help Black.

He reached the door and stuck a gloved hand out to open it. As soon as he did, a great black tentacle grabbed his shirt collar and dragged him in. The door slammed behind Flug and he was slammed into a wall. The tentacle slunk away and out of the corner of the room, Black stumbled forward towards Flug. With heavy breath and sloppy steps, Black looked up with his one remaining eye and made eye contact with Flug. Then, like earlier, Black promptly crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

“Ah jeez. He works himself up but he doesn’t realize how weak he is so he can’t handle his heart going crazy so much” Flug sighed, bending down and pulling Black’s upper body into a sitting position. “You scare me a whole lot but I’ve worked so hard and waited so long just to meet you. I promise I’ll do everything I can to calm you down when you wake up again. It’s not good for you to keep passing out like this hm?” He said to Black. Black couldn’t hear him of course.

With one arm supporting Black’s shoulders, and the other under his knees, Flug carried him to his old boss’s bed, where he softly laid Black down. Flug knew he’d wake up soon this time. Sure enough, about 20 minutes later Black woke up. He sat up quickly but Flug was ready.

“Hey hey hey it’s okay!” He said in a soft voice. “I’m right here. Nothing is gonna hurt you alright?” Flug knew that Black couldn’t understand him, but he was hoping that a softer tone of voice would help keep his incredibly frightened experiment under more manageable terms. Black edged away from Flug as Flug leaned towards him. Flug kept his breathing very slow and very audible in the hopes that Black would follow suit. It seemed to work, as Black’s breath was only slightly labored. Flug leaned across the bed now, and held his hand out. Black looked horrified. Then Flug looked down at his own and and saw his gloves.

“Perhaps… If I take these off, w-will you take my hand?” Flug asked Black as he retracted his hand and took off his glove. He then reached out his hand again, only to watch as Black leaned further away. “Eugh. What is it?” Flug said, an air of impatience in his voice. Black hissed at the change in tone, bearing the whitish green, razor sharp teeth that lined the inside of his mouth. “Ah… I did not mean to frighten you” Flug said, trying to go back into the mood of calm that he had set before. Then Flug thought for a second. Where was the scalpel? He reached inside his lab coat and pulled it out. Black hissed again. “That’s what you were afraid of!” Flug said sweetly to Black. He threw the scalpel to the side, long out of reach. Then Flug held out his hand to Black once more. After a few seconds, Black raised his own clawed hand, and touched Flug’s fingers with his own claws. “That’s it… you’re okay” Flug said with an exaggerated tone of encouragement. Flug met Black’s eyes as he climbed onto the bed. Then, while trying to be as slow and gentle as possible, he laced his fingers with Black’s. He’d finally done it.

______________________________________________________________________________

“This is called a “shirt” Can you say shirt?” Flug said to Black. It’d been a few weeks since Flug had gotten control of Black. Now he had to teach Black everything he knew, but luckily for Flug, Black was incredibly intelligent

“It.. is a s-shirt” Came the deep, rumbling reply. 

“Very good Black! Now can you put it on by yourself?” Flug replied with a encouraging tone in his voice. He watched as Black struggled for a moment to put the shirt on, but eventually he managed it. It’d taken about 20 minutes, but Black had finally gotten dressed without Flug touching a single article of his clothes. Flug smiled. “Very good! Now, what’s my name again?”

“F-Flu-Flurg” Black said with a lack of confidence in his voice

“Close, Black. It’s Flug. F-L-U-G” Flug spelled while drawing out the letters on a notepad that he carried around. Black only nodded. Then he looked around, and stood up. Flug took the time to see how cute he looked in a t-shirt and baggy pants. He was rather glad that he’d taken the time to go out and buy Black some actual clothes instead of just having him wear his old dusty Boss’s clothes. “Are you ready to go downstairs now?” Flug asked Black

“Yes”

Down they walked, Flug was careful to watch Black and be ready to catch him at a moment's notice. He learned last week that Black’s motor controls were not yet up to par and Black took a nasty tumble down the steps. After they made it down (incident free) they walked together to the kitchen, where Flug started on breakfast while Black leaned against the counter and watched.

“Egg” Black said, as Flug held up the round white egg and gave Black a questioning look

“Good” came Flug’s singsong voice. Black was starting to pick up on what Flug was teaching him. Soon, Flug’s life would be normal again. 

Days and nights continued on like this for some time, until Black was entirely fluent in English, and had even learned social cues like holding doors and saying things like “Please” and “Thank you” Needless to say, Flug was proud of the creature he’d so gracefully raised. 

There came a morning when Flug sauntered upstairs, after having spent an entire night perfecting another deadly invention to show off to Black and prompt him to sell it, when he reached the kitchen and realized that Black was not there. Fearing the worst, Flug took to Black’s room. He knocked quickly, waited a second, and was about to burst in when the door knob slowly turned. Flug was hit with surprise. The Black that he knew was gone. Instead, he was met with a tall, well dressed gentleman in a suit. Where there had once been a bandage to cover his damaged eye, a foggy monocle was delicately placed over the injury. The suit, gracefully buttoned and freshly pressed swept over his body and took Flug’s already shocked mind by storm. Flug admired Black’s fresh appearance, his eyes sweeping up and down his tall frame, until they met Black’s eyes. It was only then did he notice the hat.

“B-Black.. You look phe-phenomenal!” Flug barely managed to stutter out. Black smiled, grabbed the rim of his top hat, and bowed, sweeping his top hat off to reveal another black bowler hat underneath.

“Thank you, dear Flug.” Black replied, a toothy smile splitting his face. “But please. From now on, please call me Black Hat, or Sir”

“Y-yes Black Hat, Sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> woah you made it to the bottom! I hope you liked it, and if you did, please leave a kudo ;) 
> 
> Anyways I don't really take credit for the concept of this AU, but obviously this specific fanfiction is mine. 
> 
> I'm always open to constructive criticism (not hate!), or just compliments. Also let me know if you want me to write sequels for Demencia and 5.05
> 
> If you want to find my art (which is not all villainous directed) you can find me at Crystal_Fishbowl on instagram
> 
> thanks for reading!!!! hope you enjoyed


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